


Pretty

by blackkat



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bullying, Crossdressing, Gen, Neither does Tobirama, Touka doesn't give a damn about your gender roles, Vague self-harm via jutsu, Warning: Bratty Teenager Tobirama, in the process of Tobirama attempting to change his skin color, only mentioned in passing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-08-30 01:24:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8513386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: Prequel to Cherry Lips. It’s Tōka who finds him, even though he doesn’t want to be found.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Red_Hot_Holly_Berries](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Hot_Holly_Berries/gifts).



> Backstory for the porn, because of course Holly would inspire that. :'D

It’s Tōka who finds him, even though he doesn’t want to be found.

(He half-expects Hashirama, but—

But.)

“Come on,” she says determinedly, catching him by the elbow and levering him to his feet. Tobirama can tell by the particular slant of her mouth that she’s been yelling, and there's a smeared splatter across her cheek that looks suspiciously red. No need to ask if she’s heard them, then.

“Why?” Tobirama asks crankily, and makes himself as heavy as possible just to spite her.

Tōka visibly rolls her eyes, though her mouth is already softening into something fond. “Because, brat, I'm the boss of you. And because I'm going to show you something.”

If it’s the mutilated corpses of her enemies, Tobirama has already seen it plenty of times. “ _Tōka_ ,” he complains, past the unpleasant little twist of _rat rat sickly little rat_ that’s still ringing in his ears.

Unfortunately, Tōka is a good two heads taller than him and made entirely of muscle. She hauls him upright with an exasperated huff and marches him out of his sanctuary, heading not for the main house but for her own, set back close to one of the walls.

“What do you even _want_?” Tobirama snaps as she shoulders open the door and steers him inside.

Tōka mutters something that sounds suspiciously like “Someone’s going to drown you before you're eighteen and I'm going to help,” but when Tobirama turns to glare at her she just raises an unimpressed brow in return. “I want you to stop brooding,” she says at a clearer volume. “But I know the overactive way your mind works, little cousin, so I'm going to give you _proof_ that all those idiots out there are full of shit.”

“I _know_ that,” Tobirama hisses, and can't quite manage to get away as Tōka steers him firmly towards her bedroom.

Tobirama is starting to have a bad feeling about this.

“Yeah, yeah.” With a hard shove, Tōka slams him down into the chair in front of her vanity, then orders in her most dangerous voice, “Stay there, brat.”

Tobirama glares at her, chakra spiking with razor edges, but Tōka is entirely unmoved. She stares right back, folding her arms over her chest and simply holding his eyes the way she used to when he was frustrated over katas. Implacable, forever reasonable, making everyone else feel like a child throwing a tantrum for disagreeing with her.

It’s more than a little possible that if Tōka were Clan Head, she would have already taken over the entirety of Fire Country.

With a huff and a roll of his eyes, Tobirama stays where he is.

Lips curving in a pleased smile, Tōka kisses him on the cheek, then orders, “Close your eyes. No peeking.”

Curious despite himself, Tobirama does as ordered, listening to her lay out pots of makeup and delicate brushes. “You're not going to be able to hide them,” he says before he can quite manage to stop himself. “They won't go away.”

Tōka flicks his ear, making him flinch. “I don’t _want_ to hide them,” she chides, and just for a moment her fingers hesitate on the skin of his inner arm, mottled with a faint speckling of scars from where he tried to change his skin to something more like Hashirama's. Tobirama stiffens, not expecting her to have noticed, not wanting—

“Idiot,” Tōka tells him, and it’s faintly weary but also fond. “No more experimental jutsus on yourself, okay? I don’t care if you want the ability to tan. Leave your body alone. Now, don’t blink, okay?”

Tobirama makes a derisive noise, but doesn’t flinch when a faintly cool brush touches his skin—not over his marks, the way he expected, but on his eyelid. He tenses a little, and Tōka chuckles. “Just breathe,” she directs, and long fingers tip his chin up. His other eyelid receives the same treatment, and then she switches brushes. More light strokes across his skin, careful and smooth. More across his lips, something heavier and thicker. Tōka’s hands are swift and deft, practiced, and Tobirama has always known intellectually that makeup is a kunoichi’s weapon just as much as a kunai, but it’s different to experience it like this. He’s used to this deftness when she sharpens her blades or brew her poisons—here and now, like this, it’s something new.

Finally, he hears her stepping back, replacing lids. There's a long moment when he can feel her eyes on him, and then she says almost gently, “Look in the mirror.”

Not entirely certain what she’s trying to prove, Tobirama opens his eyes and—

Stops.

Tōka smiles a little, leaning in. “See?” she says gently, tipping his head again. “You're beautiful, Tobirama. If I sent you on a seduction mission, no one would hesitate.”

“I’m—I'm not a kunoichi,” Tobirama protests, but it comes out weaker than he intends.

With a soft laugh, Tōka leans in to kiss his forehead. “That doesn’t matter worth a damn,” she says bluntly. “ _Look_.”

He can't really do anything else.

“You're very pale,” Tōka tells him, and before he can so much as tense she adds, “It makes the dark eyeshadow more dramatic. And purple is definitely a good color on you, though indigo would probably be lovely too. You’ve got good skin, and with the right color clothes no one’s going to be able to take their eyes off of you.”

Tobirama wants to bite his lips, but doesn’t for fear of smudging the deep purple lipstick. He’s mildly stunned, can't quite believe the person in the mirror is him. _Rat_ , people whisper, because of his eyes and his hair, but—

Like this, he hardly looks like one.

“Can you teach me?” he asks, finally pulling his eyes away to look up at his cousin. “To do…all of this?”

Tōka smiles at him, warm and gentle, and tugs him up from his seat. “Of course,” she promises. “But we should finish the whole picture first, don’t you think? I have some old dresses that should still fit you. Up for trying it?”

A dress? Tobirama looks up at Tōka’s face, then glances back at the mirror.

 _Rat_ , someone told him, barely two hours ago now, and—

“All right,” he agrees, because two hours ago he saw it, but now it’s just a little bit harder.

“Come on,” Tōka tells him, and there’s a deep warmth in her eyes. “First lesson is coordinating.”

Tobirama lets her pull him over to her wardrobe, but can't help one more glance back as he goes.

Not a rat, he thinks, and is nearly vicious in his satisfaction. Almost…pretty.


End file.
